Insanity Of Life
by Taintless
Summary: This is Hermione's most active year yet...THE END! HHr. Please Read and Review! Full of twists, includes a crazy Harry, a frantic Ginny, a dieing malfoy and a very confused Hermione! Pre HBP. Previously titled: Vulgarities of Life.
1. Beginning

I hate you. I hate you, Harry. Why have you made me so sad? Why would you do that? We're supposed to be friends. Well, we were. Once upon a time. That seems so distant now. What happened to once upon a time? Where have all the happy endings gone?

When I was a child, I believe them. I believed one day I'd find my prince. I believed one day my world would be complete. I'd find my soulmate as it were. I never imagined life would be so harsh. So cold.

And I didn't have an easy life, Harry. I was the odd one out as a Muggle. I was too smart, too in-your-face, too bossy, for anyone to really like me. Nobody bothered to get to know me, because I was your typical odd ball. It didn't help that every now and then I blew up the odd glass.

You were my prince then, though, Harry. My first real friend. You, and then Ron. Ron followed whatever you did. You needed me. Needed my brains. But I didn't care. For the first time in my life, I felt included.

What happened to you, Harry? What has made you change? What has changed you so much, to do such a thing? I don't understand, Harry. Help me to understand. But I don't even know where you are now. I don't know what's going on in your life. Something happened in the summer of fifth year. Sirius died but I thought you'd be okay, Harry. I thought you were dealing. But apparently not.

Where are you? Don't you know I'd fret? Don't you know the pain you'd put Ron and me through, if you suddenly disappeared after doing such a deed? It's so unlike you, Harry. So unlike Harry Potter.

I hate you at the moment. I really do. I've thought about it so long. For so long now. But it's only been a week. A week! But I haven't slept at all. I've just stared at the ceiling, wondering without any answers. Every night, Harry. Just about you.

How could you do it? Actually, how did you do it? Did you choke him? Did you attack him, bang his head too hard off the tile floor? Or did you use the cowardly way, the magic way? Did you mean to do it? Had you planned it, up in that little box room they gave you? Or was it an accident, a sudden bout of rage, out of control?

The unanswered questions are killing me. You must know how much they kill me. Why have you done this?

"He's missing, Miss Granger, and we can't find him. Do you have any idea where he'd be? No... that's okay. Miss Granger, are you alright? I know, it's a big shock and I'm afraid I have to bestow another one on you. Harry, Harry killed his uncle, Mr Vernon Dursley, on Tuesday. Miss Granger, stop! Calm down! Yes, I'm afraid there's no question of it. I wish there was."

Merlin, Harry, how could you do it? You're the nicest person I know. Well, actually, that's not all true. You'd been terribly rude and quite moody last year, but you're not a murderer. Never a murderer!

I snap out of my thoughts. Ginny walks in and I stare at her, wanting her to suddenly go away. It's been one week since I heard the news form Dumbledore and I've been as uncommunicative to anybody as I could, without completely ignoring them.

"Hermione," she says, "we're worried about you."

"There's no need to be. I'm fine. Is it nearly time for class?"

"Yeah." She looks me over. "You look horrible."

I know I do. I don't have any snappy come back. Should I? Should I be normal by now? Should I be acting as if Harry's never existed?

In class I sit, with books spread out in front of me. I can't get behind in my classes. Not in sixth year. I can't let myself slip. Because if I do, then nothing will be the same. If I let myself slip, then I won't really know who I am anymore.

Ron's beside me. Doodling. Talking to Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan. Not paying the least bit of attention. Does he think the same as me? Does he agree we have to keep normal? We have to keep up this bravado? Or maybe he's just in shock? Maybe he just can't believe it? I wouldn't know. I haven't talked to him about it. I haven't talked to him about anything. I'm avoiding and I think he might be avoiding me.

Snape is at the top of the class, lecturing. He hasn't said one thing to the Gryffindors yet. His eyes roam over Harry's empty seat. Why hasn't he made a sneering remark? Why haven't we lost any points yet? What's going on?

Things are changing and I can't keep up.

But I can hear the Slytherins, on the other side of the room. I can hear them all hissing and giggling, sneering and laughing, their faces full of distain, and their wicked eyes gleaming with glee. I can hear Pansy Parkinson hissing over at me, "Hey Granger, missing your boyfriend yet?" and Draco Malfoy's loud voice sneering, "I wonder if Potty's gotten himself blown up or perhaps he's fell of his broom and burst that over-sized head of his." They don't know about Harry's uncle's demise but they will soon. Nothing stays a secret in this school.

Some things never change.

I can't take it anymore. I put up my hand and ask for leave. Snape looks at me, critically, and I think maybe I've pushed his "kindness" too far. But he nods coldly and lets me go. I get up, aware of the eyes on me, and walk quickly to the door, my footsteps clanging loudly against the stone floor. I feel like I can't breathe. I rip open the door and step out, closing it as quietly and un-dramatically as possible.

This is my life, Harry. Okay, it's never been mundane. But now it's too much. Look at what you've done? How could you do this to me?

I hate you, Harry.

Because you're my best and only friend, and I don't think I can go on without you.

_Okay, it's the start of a story. I'm not too sure if I'm going to continue it or not, just yet. I know it seems like a Harry/Hermione story at the moment, but, if I continue this, there's going to Ron/Hermione action and definite Draco/Hermione. Hermione's going to get a bit confused and etc. I don't know. No definite plans. Please review and tell me if I should continue this or maybe just leave it as a shoddy one-shot. _

_Thanks. Reviews really rock! So, er, be a rock star! X_


	2. Falling

I am so numb to everyone. The last couple of days have passed me in a daze. I simply go from class to class now, sometimes in the company of my friends, sometimes not. It feels like the world had stopped spinning. Everything, everything that has made me smile and laugh and cry and feel, is gone now. Now all I feel is this terrible worry, a worry I can't suppress.

Where are you, Harry?

You must be so scared. You must be wondering what we all think of you. Do you think we're all mad at you? Do you think that we'll not be able to look at you?

Surely you know better than that. Surely you know that all we want is for you to be safe. Safe and back with us. Then we can work on understanding. Then we can work on everything, Harry Potter.

And, yes, sometimes I do think I hate you. Sometimes I think how about how stupid you've been, to let things build up so much that you've killed someone. It makes me sick, thinking of my best friend as a murderer. But you matter more to me than that. Surely you're clever enough to know that.

"Granger," A voice pierces through my thoughts. "Snap out of it."

"Malfoy," I say curtly.

These prefect rounds are killing me, especially when I'm with the devil himself. He's so happy that you're gone, Harry, so happy that sometimes I want to kill him. But I won't lose control, like you did, Harry. Because one of us have to be strong.

I walk beside Malfoy now. He whistles a strange tune. The swagger on him. Arrogant git. I could slap him… again.

"So, Granger, any luck on the Pothead search?"

I ignore him. He is smirking.

"I'll take that as a 'no' then," he says confidently.

"A wise move, Malfoy."

"What if I told you, that I know where he is?"

"I wouldn't believe you."

"Not even if I had proof?"

"It'd want to me hard core evidence."

I'd love to see Harry again but I can't believe this little creep in front of me.

"I'll give you your hard core evidence, if you give me a blow job."

Pause. Silence. Then – WHAM!

I guess I can lose it just as much as you, Harry. I've just, wait for it, not slapped but punched Draco Malfoy in the mouth.

"This isn't funny," I storm at him. "Harry's disappearance is serious! This is different, it's not as if he's some insignificant creep like you, Malfoy, he's the Boy-That-Lived and, if you knew anything, anything about the-the prophecy, then you'd know how important he is!"

I'm red and flushed and I hate him as much as he hates me. He's made me so angry. I run away from him though because I know, from the look on his face, that this isn't third year. That he isn't a little boy anymore. That he was going to hurt me back there. With or without his goons present. That he might hurt me still.

"GRANGER!"

He's right behind me! Merlin, I'm actually scared. I'm running quicker than I can remember running before. I jump over the lose step on the stairs and lose my footing.

"Ahh!" One terrible moment I'm frozen in mid air, staring down, thinking, "Oh, this is just great" and then I'm clattering down with my body slamming off each step, too confused and dizzy to really feel the pain.

I'm at the end of the stairs now and I can feel the pain now. I try to move but everything feels broken. This must be what it's like, when you fall off your broom the whole time, Harry. The only sound that's coming out of my mouth is a long moan.

Malfoy runs down to me and kneels down. "You all right, Granger?"

Oh yes, Malfoy, I'm bloody brilliant. I just feel down a long run of stairs. But that's enough about me, how are you?

All I mutter through my moan is, "…Git."

I'd like to pass out or something dramatic like that but I don't. I can't move too well though.

"C'mon Granger, I'd better take you to the Hospital Wing." He says this so reluctantly. As if it's his duty. As if he's the noble one. Git.

You think he'd do something nice and romantic and carry me but, no, he helps me up with one arm and, awkwardly, lets me kind of lean on him. I can hardly walk and he's useless.

I swear if he makes one remark about how he's just had a bath, I'll curse him into oblivion. But he doesn't. He groans a bit but otherwise is quiet. Which is just as well because I'm too tired and sore to be doing some verbal hustling with him.

"Hermione! What- what are you doing?" Ron appears out of nowhere.

"She fell down a stairs, Weasley, don't worry. Your girlfriend is not losing interest in you yet. Here, can you take her? She's quite heavy."

Ron tries to get my (painful) arm around his neck to support my weight but he's even more useless than Malfoy, and much more uncoordinated. I stagger and nearly fall.

"Merlin, Weasley, what kind of an attempt was that? C'mon, I'll take her on this side and you try… do something helpful… on that side."

Now the three of us are staggering through the hallway, receiving all sorts of odd glances. The Slytherins aren't too hostile towards Malfoy, as he passes. They know that he's prefect and that he wants to be Head Boy and so he has to help out his fellow students, no matter what house they're from. Even Gryffindor.

"Hermione, Malfoy didn't have anything to do with you falling, did he? Because, if he did, I'll…"

But I know Ron getting involved would not solve anything. I have to act grown up now. "No, I-I was just tired."

Malfoy is at my other side, looking at me, but I avoid his eyes. It wasn't for him, it was for Ron and surely he knows that.

We reach the Hospital Wing and, finally, I get to lie down on a bed. Everyone's fussing over me. By the time I look, Malfoy's gone but Ron's still there, looking tired and sort of bored. He's worried about me though. He should be in bed by now – he'll be tired in the morning and we have a Potions Test first thing in the morning.

"Broken arm, Miss Granger, and a twisted ankle. But you've bruised yourself all over. I'm afraid you're going to be in a bit of pain. I recommend you stay here tonight and maybe even for tomorrow. A bit of rest could do you wonders – you look very tired."

"But we have a Potions test-"

"I'm sure Professor Snape will let you catch up. Now, now, Miss Granger, I have decided. That will be all."

Sour and put out, I say good night to Ron, assure him I'm was all right, and try to get some sleep.

Pansy is in the hospital too. She came this morning. Wonderful, because now all her Slytherin buddies keep coming in and laughing at me, when visiting her. Everyone's heard about klutzy Hermione Granger, falling down the stairs. Only I know it was Malfoy's fault.

And him, of course. Which I guess is why he has come to see me.

I have my curtains closed so Pansy won't be able to hear. The thought of her being madly jealous that he's in talking to me when he came to visit her cheers me up a bit and is why I don't kick him out immediately.

"I feel almost partly responsibility," he says as way of a greeting.

"Funny that, I wonder why."

"Yes, well, I thought… I thought, in ways of making things equal again, with the hate equal on both sides with no injuries, I'd do you a favour."

"And what's that?" I am scornful.

"I don't know where Potter is, I admit, but I do know one thing. And I'll tell you this without even the tiniest blow job."

"For Merlin's sake, what is it?"

"Potter… he's not with the Dark Lord. Wherever he is, the Dark Lord doesn't have him or doesn't know where he is. He's also looking for him."

"And my proof?" I ask harshly. "How do I know you know this?"

He pulls up his sleeve and there's the Dark Mark. Draco Malfoy is a Death Eater! Don't ask me why I'm surprised.

"Think about it. If the Dark Lord had Potter, would I not be bragging about it? What reason would I have to tell you this lie?"

I consider him, thinking hard and then I accept it. It's a relief to know, Harry, that wherever you are, you're not with Voldemort.

"But then where is he?" I say out loud.

Malfoy shakes his head. He does not know.

And neither do I.

_I still not sure which pairing I'm aiming at. I doubt there'll be Ron/Hermione, maybe some Draco/Hermione and Harry/Hermione. Damn, I just can't decide. Suggestions?_


	3. Found

Where is Harry? I lie in this bloody bed, wondering the same question over and over again. Where the hell would he be? I turn to my side. Why am I here in this Hospital Wing? The truth is Pomfrey is worried about me – they all are. Not about falling down the stairs but because they know how lost I am without Harry now.

I sit up. It's so empty in here. I think deeply for a minute – what am I doing here? I could just get up and leave. Try find Harry myself. Maybe I can help. What good am I doing here? What good am I doing here? Any school work I miss, I can just catch up on. I always do.

Plans start to formulate in my head. I can just go. Nobody would suspect me of doing anything bad. And I'm not. I have to try do something for Harry.

I'm up and out of bed, without a second thought. Everyone's in class. I couldn't tell Ron, even if I wanted to. But do I? No point thinking about it now. Once in my room, I throw my wand, Muggle money, Wizarding Money and my toothbrush into a bag and sling it over my shoulder. I haven't got an invisibility cloak but it'd be very handy right about now. I'm going to have to steal a broom from the school! I'm scared. I don't like breaking rules. It feels wrong.

It's relatively easy though. Everyone's in class. I bump into Snape. He's suspicious of me but has no real proof I'm up to anything. He allows me to pass. I can feel his eyes on me until I turn the corner. I'm flustered and uncertain at this point but I have to keep going. Nothing's going to stop me now.

I go to the broom closet and don't spend too long picking out a broom. I know little about brooms but the one I pick isn't too shaky or slow, once I'm up in the air. I've checked with Hogwarts: a History half a dozen times and I can definitely fly out of school, although I will not be able to fly back in. I don't know how I'll get back in undetected but I suppose that doesn't matter right now, does it?

Once I'm in the air and out of Hogwarts, I'm struck with more uncertainty. Where will I go? Where would Harry be? But Voldemort doesn't have him so he's out there somewhere, alive.

I'll go to Dursleys', I decide. It's time to find out what happened to Harry. Dumbledore's been most mysterious, as of late. I've been calling to his quarters but I can't get in because I don't know the password. He knows I'm there, I know he does, but he's ignoring me and I don't know why. He talked to Ron yesterday. He's talked to Ron a lot more than me. It's like he can't look at me or something. Why?

But Dumbledore's not the issue here, Harry is. I jump off my broom and leave it in an alleyway, once I'm in the train station. I have to be a Muggle now. I can't let Dumbledore or Voldemort or whoever else trace me.

Ha…. Voldemort trace me. That's funny. But yet an attack has been made on the Weasleys' (Dumbledore got the Weasleys' out of the house before any real damage was done) and Dumbledore's resources (Snape?) says that they are looking to "punish anyone of Harry Potter's allies." Voldemort wants to weaken Harry or at least that's what I think. But Dumbledore says that it's "improbable" that I'm in any danger. Well, so McGonagall said in a letter to me in the summer. Dumbledore never really seems to have time for Ron and me – just Harry. Always Harry. Only now, after his disappearance, has he seemed to make a proper effort to assure us.

I get on a bus that leads me on my way. After a ten minute walk after the bus ride, I arrive outside Harry's real home, the place he grew up. Ron and the Weasleys have been here but not me. I never had this displeasure of actually meeting the Dursleys properly but I know how much Harry has hated them all his life. But… so much as to kill his uncle?

The front door is locked and I can't use my wand. I walk around back and, after a bit of fidgeting and squirming, I manage to get into an open window.

And now I'm in the Dursleys'. The only thing I really notice is the immaculate cleanliness of the place. It's so… normal. I explore the kitchen with mild curiosity. This is Harry's home, apart from Hogwarts! This is where he ate, he where he sat, where he grew up, where he killed his uncle?

No, that's in the Living Room. A small line of yellow police tape signifies Vernon Dursley's death place. The Living Room is not quite so clean. It's obvious there was a fight here. Nothing has stirred since the murder.

A sudden sound behind me. A footstep. An intake of breath.

"_Harry?" _

I step forward. Forward again. My hands are out stretched. One more step and my hands meet something solid. I feel it for one more second, breathing quickly, then slowly pull the invisibility cloak off of him.

"Harry…"

I stare. Harry… I've never seen him like this. He's wearing filthy jeans and a huge tee shirt. Dudley's left overs, as always. His hair is wild, wilder than mine, and quite long. He has a healing black eye and dirt all over him. He smells quite strange, wild and primitive. His eyes are bloodshot, his face deadly pale, his mouth open, staring at me. There's dried blood on his hands.

"And so she comes, the first friend to be gone. 'Cause I was bold, wasn't I? I am bad." He looks at his hands and his voice lowers. "Oh, so dirty. Nobody knows it was the right thing to do, the big man had to stop shouting…"

"Harry? Oh, Harry." He's ranting, like he's insane. People don't lose their minds, do they? Not so easily? But Harry's been through so much now. It must be too much. He's killed his uncle, hasn't he? He's… not like he used to be.

I don't care. He's still Harry. I throw my arms around him. He's so cold but I don't care. He's still. He does not hug me back. He seems to be a statue, a statue of ice and little more.

"It'll be okay, Harry. I'll help you."

"She talks, hahaha, she talks. But I can see the disgust in her eyes. Well done Harry, she says, new nickname. No longer the Boy-Who-Lived, now he's the Boy-Who-Killed." He pushes me off him, hands on my shoulders, shakes me hard. "Listen to the angel sing words she does not understand. What'll be okay? Me? Life, in the coffin? Who'll help who? Can I help you?"

I stare. He stares back. There's no more ranting from him as I look at him. I feel a terrible tiredness ache at me from within. Look at what he, my friend, has been reduced to.

"Harry," I say slowly, a lump in my throat. "Do you know who I am? I'm Her-mi-on-nee Gran-ger. I'm one of your best friends. The other is Ron Weas-ley. We're both very worried about you. I came to find you. I'm here to help you."

He slaps me suddenly, a strong slap. My head snaps to the side, my eyes shut. "Bitch! You shouldn't be here. You should… be with them." His voice turns low.

I snap my head back to him. I can feel my cheek reddening. I open my eyes; the sight of him hurts me.

"You should leave." His voice is little more than a whisper now, by contrast to before. His hand rises up to my reddening cheek slowly, close, as if he wants to touch me but can not. "You should go now." His eyes go from my cheek to my eyes. "I'm not like you. I know that and so do you."

I hate how true those words are, because he isn't like me or any normal person. He never has been. He's the Boy-Who-Lived, the boy who is to kill Voldemort. He'll always be separate to us all, has been ever since that scar became one of his features. His separation from us all has caused all this. He's not like us. He's not like me.

I step away from me. I was wrong. I can't help him. I can't handle him, it hurts too much. "I-I'm going back to Dumbledore, Harry, and I want you to come with me."

"No!" His lingering hand snaps back to his side. "No! I'm not supposed to live in a cage, I haven't done anything. Oh yes, oh yes, I have, I know I have, but I won't… not again, not a cage. Not to be caged."

"Dumbledore will not put you in a cage!" He is close to me, I'm in his face. It's all too much. I'm shouting.

"Yes, he will," he shouts right back at me.

"I would never let that happen to you!"

"How could you stop him? How could we all stop him? We couldn't stop people being killed... couldn't stop _him_ from being killed! What can we do, but make mistakes?"

"Who did he not stop being killed?" I yell. "Your Godfather or your uncle?"

It's like a snap happens between us. We had been in each other's faces screaming but now we're away from each other, baking away. We can't be near each other any longer. Because it's a good question, an unanswerable one. I look away because I can see a horrible spark or emotion in his eyes.

"Everyone. I killed them all," he mutters. I don't answer. He didn't kill Sirius but he had been very foolish. And the fact of the matter is he did kill his uncle. What can I reply?

He looks back to me. He no longer looks insane but there's an awful sadness about him. "I killed them all. Everybody…" He turns away from me so he's facing the wall. His forehead rests against the wall. I watch him, fighting back my own tears at what he's become. I have t be strong now, I can cry later.

"Please don't tell them where I am. I don't want them to see me. Not yet."

Weakly, I give in. "I won't, Harry, I promise."

"You should go," he says. "The devil is sure to be here soon. You… you should go home."

"I'm not going to Hogwarts without you," I say with a good try at calmness.

"No, to your real home. It could help…"

"Help what?" Please, just talk to me.

He says nothing. He looks like part of the furniture as if he has no life left in him. I stare at him for a long time before a long time before finally moving. "I'll be back," I say but I know I'll get no reply. I leave the house. Once outside, I start breathing again. Will he be here when I get back? I think he will be. After all, he has no where else to really go.

I get the bus. My heart pounds. My thoughts are completely on Harry but I don't go back to him. I'm travelling to my house. I have to go on two different buses to get there; it's a good bit away. Before I'm on the second bus though, I know what I'll see.

I see it as I walk up my road but I keep walking anyway, until my feet are firmly in front of the remainder of my house, ashes, soot, blackness all around. My house… Gone. I can smell the death in the air. And the magic. More yellow tape circle the house, just like at the Dursleys' house. I stand outside there for a long time. It has started to rain but I do not care. Everything…. Everything is gone.

I know instinctively that my parents are dead. Death Eaters must have come and…

A neighbour has seen me. Mrs Barret. She's holding me, talking, mothering me. Going on about how cold I must be. She takes me into her house, throws a blanket over my shoulders, and pushes a cup of tea into my hand. I say nothing.

She keeps calling me a poor, sweet child.

"How long?" I say, at last. My voice sounds scratchy, unfamiliar.

"Five days ago, dear. You, you did know, right, dear?"

I find myself nodding although I obviously didn't. I ignore all her questions about where I'm staying, what I would like to eat, more tear and just sit there, staring into eternal blankness.

Eventually, I ask, "Where are they now? Did they… Did they, their bodies, get…out? I can't believe I've just asked that about my parents. Numb.

"No dear. They had passed then but there hadn't been a mark on them."

Definitely Death eaters then.

"Where are they now? My parents?" My voice is sharp.

"New graveyard, down the road, fifteen minutes away, beside the old park."

I stand up and leave the house, shrugging off the blanket, without one word to her. I am walking towards the graveyard but I'm not ready yet. I see the bus, the bus that'll lead me on my journey back to Harry and get on.

I'm at the Dursleys' after a sudden blur of buses, walking and no thoughts of anything. I push open the back door just as before, without a thought. A thin woman and big boy are there. Petunia and Dudley Dursley, no doubt. They stare at me. The woman says something in a shrill voice but my head is buzzing too loudly to hear her.

"Harry!" I shriek, once in the hallway. Petunia and Dudley run to the hallway, gripping on to each other. I hear a footstep beside me and, with a sudden burst on energy, pull off the cloak, revealing him.

I can feel no emotion now.

"You," the woman hisses at Harry. "You killed Vernon; after all he did to you…"

I don't care about this woman or her fat child. "Get out, both of you." I realise that my wand is pointing at them. They scatter off, glancing nervously at the wand.

I turn it to his neck but he's already walking away, to the Living Room. I follow him, head buzzing so loudly, disenabling me to think. He has ducked under the yellow tape and is standing at the roped off area, the place where Vernon Dursley had once lay, after being murdered. He turns to face me, saying, "So many deaths

"You knew?" My voice is shuddering. "You knew my parents were dead?"

"All these deaths, all my fault," he whispers, shaking his head.

"How did you know?" My voice sounds so far away.

"I ran after everthing… my uncle. I thought you'd be there… at your house, but the house was on fire. I watched Mommy and Daddy being taken, not burnt but dead, with two little marks on them, just like this one." he taps his forehead, smiling grimly. "Everyone's died, because of me. I should make a list. The list of the Boy-Who-Killed."

"My parents are dead."

"You didn't know?"

"Dumbledore didn't tell me." That's why he wouldn't talk to me. But why? Why didn't he tell me? I needed to know…

"My parents are dead. Mom and Dad are dead." Oh god. My legs fall. I have no legs anymore. I have nothing. I've never felt so lost in my life. Everything inside me is broken, like shards of glass cutting me inside out.

He catches me before I meet the ground. I sink to the floor slowly, as does he, supporting my weight. He holds me in his arms and I press against him. It all comes at me, it's all too much. I'm crying, shaking, coughing, spluttering. My eyes and nose are running. I'm crying so much, it sounds like I'm laughing. He holds me, perfectly still, but if I look at his face, I can see the two fat tears rolling down his face.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry…" he whispers, his face in my hair. It feels like it's just me and him at the edge of the world. My whole life is breaking apart and all the pieces are being lost forever. I know nothing but these tears. I feel nothing but Harry around me. My feelings are nothing but a shrieking pain coming from somewhere inside my chest.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry…"

* * *

_My favourite chapter so far! This took me ages to write so please, please, please, give me a couple of reviews. Personal thanks in the next chapter._


	4. Flying

"I'm nothing." He looks in the mirror, covered by his invisibility cloak, staring at his reflection that is not there. "Nothing."

"C'mon, Harry." I'm practically carrying him. My body seems to have taken over for the moment. I cried and cried and cried and Harry held me, but now my eyes are completely dry. I can feel a kind of blanket of dullness and greyness hovering over my head but I'm trying to ignore it. I have to get Harry out of this house. He's been in this cage too long now.

I pull at him. I'm also covered in the cloak. I seemed to have silently persuaded him to come back to Hogwarts. He seems to have resigned to fate. He's being awfully quiet. Every time he looks at me, there's a terrible sadness and pain in his eyes. I wonder, not for the last time, just what exactly has been happening to Harry.

Leaving the door, he looks back. He stops walking and I fear for a minute that he's going to run back in. He looks afraid, unprepared. He looks to me, pleadingly but I shake my head. He can't hide anymore. I offer him the best attempt of a smile I have. He frowns back at me.

We walk to the bus stop. My arms are so tired, as I pull at him. He stops frequently, whispering under his breath, staring at inane objects, probably remembering things from his childhood I know virtually nothing about. I know I can't help him, I know I can't even help myself. I've never felt so bloody worthless in my life.

_My parents are dead. _It's like, I don't even care. I feel like it's just a horribly dull day and I'm looking out the window. Mildly depressed and run down, but not in pain. Just… under the weather. Miserable, yes, but not even close to tears.

I get on the bus, without the cloak, but he follows, still invisible. He sits on a seat, away from me. This saddens me, but I'm not quite sure why. He feels so far away to me now.

I get off and hear him behind me. We're in the train station. I go to a café, looking around, hoping he's still with me. I order a cup of tea and try to relax. It's not hard. I feel like I'm half asleep.

I hear him sit down on the chair opposite me. The place is quiet, it must be late. My tea comes and I cup it in my hands, letting the heat soothe me. I stare at where he should be, and hear him one whisper, "I'm nothing. Why does she even bother with me?" I know, without sight, that he is crying. He makes no noises, I just know. I sit there. I want to take the cloak from him, hug him, even shout at him, but instead I do nothing.

I'm not quite sure how long I've sat there. I realise that nothing, nothing, is ever going to be the same again. I don't know what is going through Harry's head. I need answers, though. I contemplate never going back to Hogwarts. I contemplate just giving up and becoming as lifeless as my parents. Why not? What else is there?

My eyes are wet. I'm ashamed. I wipe them away quickly, horrified, hoping Harry hasn't noticed. There's no time for that. I need Dumbledore to help me, to answer my questions, to make Harry turn back to Harry again. I need him.

"Harry, I'm going to have to go look for my broom. Would you like to come or are you going to sit here?" He doesn't answer, of course, but I know he'll come with me. He really doesn't have anywhere to go. I feel somewhat like he's depending on me, which is funny because I can barely support myself.

After finding it where I left it, I sit at the bench and watch the people hustle by. So many people, so many lives and problems and emotions… Do any of them feel like I feel now? How can they keep running past, if they knew? The misery inside me keeps building up, making my throat close. I can't swallow. My breathing is fast and light, I can't take a deep one. My heart flutters in the wind, feeling so delicate, waiting to be broken.

Silence has eluded both Harry and I and I am glad. Even if he wanted to talk, I have nothing to say.

Finally I go to the same quiet alleyway and climb on the broom. I feel his weight behind me. I take the cloak from him, it'll be blown off if he keeps it on. There's some charm I should use, but I don't care. I don't care if all the Muggles in the world sees me at the moment. We fly. I go slowly. I don't want to scare him. He looks around with wide eyes. He looks nervous. His hands lightly encircle my waist. I'm clutching the broom.

Hogwarts looms into our sight and I gently hover over it for a minute. If only we could stay on this broom forever, Harry and I, on this clear night. From up here, I can nearly forget it all. The silence between us is simple and understood. I don't want the silence to end.

The minute I touch ground, the silence does end. My head erupts full of thoughts. My body shakes, although I'm not quite sure why. The building has never felt so cold and horrible before. It's freezing out; the wind whips my hair around my face. I only notice the cold down here.

Harry crumbles to the ground. I turn, fully intending to pull him up but, seeing his pitiful expression, instead I just stare at him.

"I don't want to…" he cries. He's like a child, all of a sudden. Wide-eyed and innocent. So scared. "Please. Don't make me."

I can't fight him. Because I don't want to. I'm begging the same words. Please. Don't make me.

I suppose Hedwig must have felt Harry's presence because he's landed on Harry's arm, suddenly. Harry shakes him off, suddenly horrified, as if the bird has burnt him. The bird flies from him to me. I look at it and whisper, "Please. Please get Ron. Bring him here." The bird nips my finger and takes off.

"I hate this place." Harry turns to me. His voice is quiet but angry. "Why did you bring me here? I hate this place. I hate you. I hate myself. Because of you. Because of this place. Because of myself. Do you care?"

"Shut up, Harry," I snap, something side of me snapping also. "Just be quiet, will you?"

He looks wounded and defensive but says nothing.

I see Ron running towards me. I watch. His face is red and worried. He catches me into his arms and pull me into a bear hug. "Merlin, Hermione, where _have_ you been? I thought- I thought I'd lost both of you-"

He turns suddenly and I know he's just seen Harry. He gasps, dashes towards him, throws his arms around him as well, and makes more gasping noises. Harry shoves him off roughly and pushes him to the ground. "NO! Stop! Bad, bad…" Harry turns to run but I petrify him with my wand. My wand, I forgot I had that.

Ron stares at Harry then comes to me. His face is flushed. "What-what is going on?"

I look at Harry then up at the sky. How I wish I was back there again…

"HERMIONE!" He grasps my shoulders and shakes me hard. This shaking brings something back into me, anger.

"Let go off me," I snarl. I thrust my wand into his face.

He looks at it with huge eyes, then promptly brings his hands up and snatch it off me. I jump on to him, prepared to kill him to get my wand back. That's all that matters, suddenly. I need my wand. I need to fight. I need to forget.

He throws me up back against a tree and pain curses through me. Too much pain, I can't accept anymore. He points his own wand at me and says, "Don't make me shun you, Hermione. I will, and I'll carry you and Harry straight to… Snape, unless you tell me, right now and completely calmly, what in the bloody hell is going on? Where was Harry? What's wrong with him? What's wrong with you? What happened?"

"What happened was… you were wrong. Harry should have talked about Sirius. But instead, he kept it all inside and then he exploded. You were wrong, like you're always wrong and I was right, like I always am, except you didn't listen to me. I told you we shouldn't go to the Department of Ministry, I told you he needed to talk about Sirius, I've always told you the right thing and yet you always do the wrong thing and now look at what you've done to Harry!"

It feels good to blame Ron. It feels good to see some of the pain I feel reflected in his eyes. The sheer sight of him, with his goofy pyjamas and vivid red hair, seems to start of fire inside me. I can't understand it, I can only feel it.

"Put that wand away from my face, Ron, before you do something else wrong, eh?" I am cruel. I feel cruel.

"What happened, Hermione?" He swallows. "What's making you say these things?"

I suddenly jump up and push against him. He's naturally much stronger and pushes me back against the tree, pinning me back. I fight against him, spitting and clawing, and he keeps restraining me. After a minute or two, I go quiet. My energy is suddenly all gone. All I want is for all of this to stop. He looks into my face, into my eyes and asks me earnestly, "What- what happened, Hermione?"

"My parents are dead, Ron. Voldemort killed them." My voice, which I expected to be bitter and flat, is weak and shaken.

"Oh Hermione…" All I see is him looking back at Harry, lying in the mud, and then me, pinned against the tree, with a terrible unfamiliar tear in his eye, before he waves his wand at me and I slump against the tree, fast asleep.

* * *

_A few notes. I say it'll probably be Hermione/Harry, although again I'm not too sure. It's basically what comes out of the keyboard at this point. In the next chapter, there's the confrontation with Dumbledore and a more in-depth reason as to why Harry's gone a bit strange._

_Thank yous:_

_Ptrst: I take all your notes into account. Thank you very much._

_Illyria-light: Thanks for all your great reviews (Not just in this story.)_

_Tald: yes, I quite agree. Thanks for the review – it gave me a bit of perspective_

_Johnny's-my-Hottie – Thanks for the encouragement,_

_PinkTribeChick – You're… kind of right. Maybe. Thanks!_

_Oh yeah, I may have to change the rating to R. Not for sex or anything, just because there might be a bit of harshness…. I'll see. Anyway, thanks for the nice reviews and I hope you all like this chapter. Sorry, it's kind of short, but if I write longer chapters, you'll never see an update!_


	5. Pain

I open my eyes.

Where am I?

Professor Dumbledore is leaning over me.

For one moment, we're staring into each other's eyes. I see him as I've never seen him before; old.

I shove myself up from the ground. Looking around, I see I am in Dumbledore's office. Ron is here, sitting down on a wooden chair, red hair sticking out from his face, lip bleeding and his face ghastly white. His eyes are hooded and defensive as he looks into mine.

Harry's tied up, sitting on another wooden chair. He's awake but his face is completely blank. His eyes are unfocused.

Snape hovers over Harry. His eyes are deriding and amused. He smirks at me in way of greeting. I stare back.

"Hello, Miss Granger," Dumbledore says now.

And, with that, I suddenly feel all extreme emotion drain out of me. I'd been ready to lung at him, fight him, scratch him but, with the sound of that old, exhausted voice, now that's gone.

"Hello, Professor Dumbledore," I reply, looking straight at him.

"Are you alright?"

"No," I respond quietly.

"I-I can tell you, your parents suffered very little. It was sudden and painless." Dumbledore looks a little wary.

"How do you know?" My voice is low and steady. "Was he there?" I gesture over towards Snape.

"No," Dumbledore tells me, "Mister Malfoy was."

It takes me a couple of seconds to register this. "Malfoy? As in _Draco_ Malfoy?"

"Yes."

I feel actual vomit come up in my throat. I have to swallow it back down.

I realise that I want to kill him.

"He's a spy for us now," Dumbledore says.

"He watched my parents being murdered!" My voice trembles. "He might have even killed them himself!"

"I assure you-"

"You'll have to excuse me, Professor Dumbledore, but my faith in you is practically non-existent now. I don't think I shall be assured by _anything_ you say." My voice is still low but it's shaking. "How- how could you not tell me my own parents were dead?

"I thought you were suffering enough. I was afraid, Miss Granger, of the effect it would have on you."

The jar beside him bursts. I lost control of my magic. I stare at him coldly, with accusing eyes.

"Merlin!" Ron jumps as the jar breaks. "Hermione!"

I ignore him completely. "What's wrong with Harry?" I throw at Dumbledore.

"I'm not quite sure. He's obviously reached breaking point. I have theories-"

"Can you help him?" I interrupt, having very little interest in his theories.

"I can try."

"Good." I stare at him for one minute. "I'm leaving."

"Wait – Miss Granger!"

I walk out with the appearance of calmness and leave them all behind. I can hear Ron yelling.

I have to find Malfoy.

"Hermione, will you just wait a second!" Ron jerks me into a corner by my arm and stares at me, half- angrily, half-pleadingly.

"Go back to Dumbledore, Ron." My voice is cold.

"This is silly. C'mon, Hermione, don't you see? We have to stick by each other. We have to stick together or otherwise we got nothing!"

"You don't get it, Ron! My parents are dead! And – and it's Dumbledore's fault! He should have protected them! He should have protected us! Look at Harry! What was he doing, back at the Dursleys, after all that had had happened to him? Look at what Dumbledore was asking of him, and tell me you understand it! It doesn't make sense, Ron! And I don't _care_ anymore!" I push Ron away from me and continue striding forwards, ready to take Malfoy down. Ron doesn't follow me. He's lost whatever he tried to gain.

I don't care anymore.

I march down to the Slytherin Common Room and wait. It's so dark down here. I relish in the shadows. I'm breathing heavily. I don't know what I am feeling, what I am anymore. I'm running on pure, raw energy. I need to hurt Malfoy.

I watch for hours. Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini nearly see me but otherwise I am completely undetected. It feels good, but I'm not sure why.

Malfoy appears a little while later. He's with his two buffoons. My wand is ready and I'm barely conscious of taking them down with two separate spells. Malfoy looks afraid.

I step out of the shadows and reveal myself.

"You watched my parents die," I accuse him gently.

"Granger-"

"You watched my parents die!"

"Look, I-"

"And now you will have to die!" I scream.

"What-!"

"_Crucio…_!" I hiss.

And suddenly there's more than just my screams in the air.

* * *

_Please don't take this story too seriously. I don't have a lot of interest in it, but I'm interested to see what you think. Shall I continue it? I'm kind of more interested in Three right now, but it's up to you..._


	6. Loses

"What are you doing!" A voice so full of angst is the only thing that can shake me from my trance. I look up to see Ginny. Her eyes are watering and the expression on her face is heart breakingly sad. But how could she ever understand? She doesn't feel the way I feel, she can't even imagine this thirst I have inside me, this quench for something to change, for everything to be right and okay again, for Harry to be sane and for my mum and dad to be alive. I need for some justice to be served.

My wand is in my hand, shaking beyond belief. That's the only show of emotion I am revealing. Nobody could see the turmoil going on inside me at that moment. If any one were to look without knowing any better, they would think me a Death Eater, and Malfoy an innocent victim.

I have an image in my head; him overlooking my parent's deaths, smirking, thinking that they deserved to die just because of what they were and who they had breed, laughing with his little Slytherin friends, looking every bit of the snake he is.

_It's my fault! _The thought rips itself from my throat and I realise from Ginny's change of expression that I've screamed it. The thought is what fills my head now. If I hadn't been born, they would still be alive. If I hadn't gotten my Hogwarts letter, if I was just a normal teenage girl, no harm would have come to them. If I hadn't gotten myself involved in these dark things – Harry and the Dark War – things I had no right getting myself involved in, I would be able to return to them now, hug them and never let go.

Now I can't, and it's my fault.

Not all my fault. But, at the end of the day, I'm the one that the real blame lies with. There's no real question of it, not in my mind. But I understand that Draco's involvement in their murder is his fault, and he should be punished. I don't care for his feelings – why should I? Every opportunity he's had, he's reminded me of my common blood, he's reminded me that I do not belong in the world he was raised in. He has never shown any compassion towards my feelings; he's watched me cry with gleeful grey eyes. No matter what, I will never forgive him.

I'm looking at him now. His screams have died down now. His knees must have fallen in as he's crumbled to the ground; only half upright, kneeling. As if he's praying to me. His eyes are scrunched closed; he cannot see me. He can feel me though; feel the pain. I want him to. His jaw is clenched and fine tremors run through his body as if currents of electricity are running through him.

Pray to me, Draco. Pray for our pain to stop.

Ginny seems to have learned how to move again. Poor ignorant Ginny, she hasn't got a clue. She scuffles with me, trying to knock the wand out of my hand. She's too small. I tower over her and the wand is way above her reach. Poor ignorant Ginny, so tiny in her little school uniform, witnessing a person she may consider her best friend, with sudden wickedness in her hand and torturing a fellow student. Ginny hasn't got a clue. Not about anything.

I wish I could be ignorant again.

Harry told me before in the Hospital wing after fifth year about how he'd tried to curse Bellatrix. Despite all of his anger and anguish, he hadn't been able. He'd still been too good for that. Righteous anger…But I'm different, I'm not like Harry. I'm not that good. I never have been really. Harry and Ron…they're somewhat similar; simple with their emotions. I can read them both like an open book, new Harry obviously an exception. I've always felt there was something different inside of me. I could do things that would even surprise myself; like cursing Snape in first year or trapping that terrible Rita woman in a jar and blackmailing her whenever she was of any use to me. Things that were sly and cunning, and not at all general Gryffindor traits, things that were more Slytherin than anything else.

I was surprised in fifth year. My plan to leave Umbridge to the centaurs was both clever and cruel. Malfoy was impressed by that too; I had seen it in his eyes when it had all come out (for the truth never remains hidden in Hogwarts). I know I'm different; I know that Harry would never have been able to cast Crucio on Malfoy, no matter what had happened.

But Harry had killed his uncle…

Does that mean I can kill now too? Are their new rules now? Now that I've lost so much, can I make others suffer as much? Is that how it works now?

"Hermione, please!" Ginny's crying now. She doesn't understand; how can she ever understand? I don't even understand. I'm getting no pleasure out of this, I just can't stop. Not now, not yet…

Not until…

I feel it happen. The currents of electricity give one last surge and the tremors in his body stop. The screaming inside my head stops too; pausing in disbelief. The wand drops from the shaking hand and stillness hangs in the air.

Draco's body drops to the ground slowly, not moving.

Ginny's breath is shaky and ragged. She moves to him as if this is a dream. I watch, nonplussed. She kneels to him, fumbling for his wrist, goes totally ridged, and closes her eyes. I wait for something, not breathing. She reopens blind eyes at me and gasps, "I can't feel a pulse."

He's dead?

Murderer… 

I'm no better than the scum who killed my parents. Emotions flood me; a confused pool of half felt feelings and illogical thoughts.

Murderer… 

"No!"

The shout is more a plea than anything else. No, oh please no, please God or anything that's out there…please, after everything, please no…

"You…you have to run," Ginny gasps now at me, her voice gone. "Hermione, you have to get out of here. Go! Now! Don't let them find you!"

Yes, Ginny's right. I can't see their expressions, their accusing tones, their disappointed faces. I can't go through that, it'll drive me mad.

Murderer… 

I turn and run, clattering through the hallway, blindly. "Accio Broom," I yell and a broom comes to me, probably some innocent first year's. Petty theft is the last thing to grace my mind. All I can hear is the blood rushing in my head. I continue to run with the broom in my hand. I run and run and run, leaving all of it behind. There's nothing but pure adrenaline keeping me going now. I run through all the loses I've had and all I'm losing now. By running from this building now, I really have nothing left. I reach a window, I'm high up in one of the towers, near the Ravenclaw common room. There is nobody here to stop me; I am completely and utterly alone.

I don't stop running. I jump from the window and somehow entangle myself with the broom so I do not meet the ground. The thought of leaving myself drop does not occur to me; all I want to do is escape from them. Death would no be an escape; I have damned myself forever and I am already in hell.

"I'm sorry," I whisper to whoever may be listening but the sentence is stripped away of its meaning by the cold, lashing wind and lost forever. Just like Hermione Granger.

* * *

_I actually quite liked this chapter. I know it's a bit slow, but I figured that was a good way to finish the chapter. I'm slowly getting more inspired for this; I have a couple of ideas for it now. I will have time to write anyway, this summer appears to be boring already. _

_I'm turning seventeen next Monday. I can't believe I'm seventeen, and have achieved so little. ;-( _

_Thanks to PinkTribeChick, Alenor, and illyria-light. _

_I like the new layout. I just hope they'll let me upload this. I love the story's stat page where you can see which story is on people's alerts and favourites. It's cool – I love things like that. _

_See you soon, and, like always, please review. Inspire me! Please?_

_Oh yeah, next chapter; new POV I think...I have someone in mind but who do you think it should be?_


	7. Fighting

Just one gravestone shows me all my pain. Grey and dull – lifeless – bearing the name of the two people that were responsible for my life, and who knew me better than anyone. Sure, they were Muggles but they did everything in their power to get involved in my Magical Life. Always inquiring about me and I can't remember a day they didn't send me an Owl at Hogwarts, just to make sure I was okay.

Sure, they might have pushed a little. They wanted their little girl to do well. And I did. I know that, at least out of everything, my parents were so, so proud of me.

That thought comforts me slightly, as I stand here heaving heavily, staring at their ordinary names, waiting for something to happen.

The thought that I'm after killing someone is overpowering though, and I can't quite believe I would do something so wicked. I don't know who I am anymore. I have no family, I have no friends and I am a murderer. Everything has changed in such a short amount of time.

I killed Draco Malfoy. I close my eyes and my breath hitches. I killed a seventeen-year-old boy. It had seemed so simple at the time – painful, but logical. Completely justified. I was little more than an animal at the time, acting on instinct and some primal darkness that's always been inside me.

Now I can see the truth. It's so agonisingly clear to me. Dumbledore said Malfoy had been a spy for them. He was there, but I have no evidence that he was in any way involved. There was little he could do. Why should he risk his life for people he barely knew? He is obviously more valuable to the Order alive than dead. If the roles were reversed, why would I go out of my way to save Malfoy's parents, if I could possibly die in the process?

_My parents were good people! They didn't deserve to die! _No, but did Draco? He saved himself only to have me kill him – the worst way possible. I had no right. Nobody has the right to take lives as they please. Not me. Not Harry. Not even Dumbledore.

"I'm so sorry, Mum and Dad," I whisper. "Please forgive me."

The gravestone stares back at me unwaveringly, and I find no peace there. I blink away any loose tears. The truth is, I don't deserve forgiveness.

What about Draco's mum? What about all his other family, cousins and grandparents and uncles? People that loved him? Merlin, did Malfoy have any siblings? Not in Hogwarts…could there be younger?

My head spins. I close my eyes. The gravestone still stares.

I don't know how long I stand there in the cold and bright, before my parents' resting place, eyes shut tightly, face scrunched up in a futile attempt against the inevitable tears.

In one second, I was standing there in my half-trance, thoughts racing through my mind. The next, rough arms were grabbing me, a sweaty hand over my mouth and a wand pointed at my neck and "Don't move an inch, Mudblood, unless we tell you to" was hissed harshly into my ear.

I don't know why I don't just run. Sure, they would kill me, but did I have anything left to live for? Surely death would be a peace now. But I don't. Not out of fear, but a strange determination to keep living. A strange determination to not give up just yet.

I'm Apparated. Taking in my surroundings, I see only darkness, and black figures against the darkness. A woods, maybe? It has an outside feel to it and its dreadfully cold, but I can't be one hundred percent sure. I look around, and the fear still hasn't kicked in.

"Knock her out before the Dark Lord comes," a voice orders from the darkness, "and I'll send the letter to Dumbledore."

The kick to the face doesn't knock me out so they have to go again. I wait patiently, face stinging – unconsciousness can't be too bad at this stage.

At last, momentary peace takes me.

* * *

Oh great, now I am going mad.

Draco Malfoy just walked into my dungeon, and is smirking at me silently. Same azure eyes, same impossibly blonde hair, same tedious smirk…was he a ghost?

"In all fairness, Granger, don't you think it'd take more than _you_ to finish off a Malfoy? I'm a spy against Voldemort, for Heaven's sake…"

"But…Ginny…"

"Was a fumbling mess. My heart beat was weak is all, Granger – an unfortunate effect of being tortured, I'll admit."

"Malfoy…"

"Yes?"

I look at him, and hope he can feel my sincerity. "I…I am so…sorry…"

His face is sombre as he looks at me back. "I know, Granger."

Silence.

And then he does the impossible. "I am sorry too. If there was anything…"

"I know." I _do_ know, that's the weird thing. I know that he is sorry. That he didn't enjoy watching my parents die. I know that we're okay, that we will be okay. I won't try kill him again, nor him me. We're even in both our pain. I know that he's changed, and I know I've changed. It's like I can see him properly for the first time and can se myself in his grey eyes.

"Aren't they wondering where you are?" I ask him now.

"I'm supposed to be "minding" you. Torturing you, I suppose. But I figure we can skip that. There's been enough of that already today." An easy grin – smirk, more like - at me. Such a Slytherin trait – laughing at pain and death. Admirable, really.

"They'll be here soon, you know," he tells me now. "You just have to be strong."

"Okay. I think I can do that." Because through all the pain and misery and insanity, I _do_ have strength. Sometimes invisible, sometimes weak, sometimes fragile but still always there. That's how I know my parents were proud of me. That's how I know they're still proud of me now. I won't give up, I won't just die. I will fight, just like my parents did. Someday I'll get the details off of Draco, but not yet. Someday I will and I'll cry but I'll be proud of them too…

* * *

I stand in front of the man they call Voldemort. Not really a man anymore, I suppose. A snake. A monster. A murderer…I hate him. Draco stands behind me, eyes set and emotionless. I try to copy his pose, but the fear is hitting in now. How much more pain can I endure, before I forget my parents' faces?

The thought of forgetting them scares me more than anything else.

Voldemort likes to talk. I wait…I know they'll come. My friends, the Order, Dumbledore. I have full faith in them. They won't let me die. They'll save me, as always. Good always prevails over evil.

It all happens in a blur. They burst in. Dumbledore looks terrifying, glowing with power, eyes cold and twinkling with something dark and threatening. Ron looks so determined, with his wand raised and ready, so grown up. Ginny, beside her brother, smaller and prettier, but in no way less determined or strong. Old classmates, people I don't even give a second thought, all ready to fight and rescue me. Lavender Brown. Neville Longbottom. Luna Lovegood. Michael Corner. McLaggan. Dean Thomas. Seamus Finnegan. That Vane girl. Cho Chang, and her friends with the spots I inflicted on her.

Loads of people, and that's not even including all of the teachers and all of the members of the Order. Hagrid and Grawp, his half brother, charge through the Death Eaters, tossing them away easily and enjoying the sound of the Death Eater's shouts of alarm and fear they are causing just by the mere, massive sight of them. McGonagall's face is bright alive with animation and exhilaration, as if she hasn't ever had so much excitement. She looks like she's been born to fight like this. Lupin is out to avenge Sirius' death, and seems to be doing a good job of it by the look of Bellatrix. Everyone is racing with adrenaline, fighting their hardest…this is it…we're winning…

"Hermione, are you alright?" he roars now. My heart soars…Harry! Harry, looking perfectly healthy and sane. _Harry…_

"Are you?" I cry back.

"I will be," Harry lifts himself out of the crouch, and then pulls me up, ripping off my binding ropes. "Just give me a few minutes."

"Voldemort went that way," I point. Because we both know what Harry has to do.

Harry slides through the battle, not fighting, conserving himself for the end.

I inhale deeply, and begin my fight. It's with Pansy Parkinson and I fight easily, matching her with little effort. I paralyse her and throw her into Dumbledore's Anti-Aparation field. I don't really care what happens to her, Askaban, probably, but I will not kill her. I'm not a Murderer…thank Merlin!

Draco and Snape have joined our side now, and the Death Eaters are both outnumbered and weak. It's only a matter of time. I watch all us students fight and am so immensely proud. Sixteen, and we are fighting powerful wizards twice our age and winning. We've all grown up before our time.

I needn't have bothered worry about Draco's mother. Draco, himself, pushes her into Dumbledore's trap, and there is no sadness or pity or mercy on his face. She's scratched him across the face and blood is pumping out. Pure Blood, and it looks the exact same as mine. Our eyes meet, he nods, and I nod back. We continue to fight. As always.

Our Battlefield becomes quieter. And then it happens…Harry and Voldemort are duelling. It's brief…Voldemort casts the killing spell and Harry rebound sit, then casts his own. One fluid movement, so quick after the rebounding that many don't hear the words and nobody has time to react…not even the Dark Lord.

He falls as any normal man would fall, and is gone.

Harry looks up at us all. The last couple of Death Eaters are rounded up. I can't quite believe it. Numb. I watch him stumble towards him, and I catch him in my arms as he falls to the ground in exhaustion.

"Are you alright?" I whisper, worried.

"Not only alright, Hermione. I feel happy again."

Ron and Ginny are running towards us, but I want Harry and I to be left alone, just for a minute. It's as if Draco can read my mind, he stands in their way, blocking them effectively, and shaking his head knowingly.

"It'll be okay now, Hermione. From now on. There's so much I have to explain to you, so much we have to get through. But we will. We'll do it together."

We are both too tired to kiss, but somehow know that we will when things were better again. As it is, my head is under his chin, against his chest, and his face was in my hair. So close, I can feel his warmth. I finally feel safe and grounded again. I don't know why but I start crying suddenly. Not from complete sadness, although the pain is far from gone. Some of these tears are from exhaustion and relief and happiness.

He holds me in his arms all the while. Draco still holds off the two eager redheads.

"I don't understand, though. How come you could do it? How come it was so easy in the end?"

He looks over my head at the Battlefield, thinking hard. Finally, biting his lip, his brilliant green eyes look back into mine. "I think it's because…well, I've killed before, haven't I?"

I think about that for a long time. Everything that Harry's done, everything that he's suffered through, all the good and bad things, they've made him the person he is today. They've made him strong enough to kill Voldemort. Everything has made him who he is – Harry Potter.

I had been uncertain about who I was, but now I know. I'm just me, Hermione Granger. There's no way to stereotype me, categorise me. I'm not all together good and not altogether bad. I have skills and characteristics but they don't tell me who I am. It's the things that I've done and all that I'm going to do that tell me who I am. It's the things that have happened to me, simple ordinary things like loving my parents so much and being able to live through my grief, that give me the strength to fulfil my destiny, whatever that may turn out to be.

Harry's face is old and grey and full of tiredness and lines…but he's smiling down at me and, after a moment, I smile back.

* * *

_Just a little epilogue left and then that's it!_

_I know it wasn't my best story by far but I still enjoyed it, and I'm glad to finally have it finished. The tense and first perspective was all-new to me, and I had to rely more on feelings than actual writing with words. _

_Thanks to: kougasgirl05, The Cardboard Moon, ..Aurorablu, rani singala, Hermione-Potter-52036, Dynobunny (Really? I wouldn't agree with you now, but thanks!), Alenor, illyria-light._

_Just a note: Draco was supposed to be dead, but I kind of wanted a happy ending for it anyway and so many people presumed he was still alive…if I was going to delve into this story a little more, I would have added a little more on this. _

_Thanks to everyone who might still be reading, and for the constant support in a story that I have struggled with. Some stories just come naturally, and some are just harder. Support helps so much. I honestly believe I would be miserable if not for this site, it's such a upbringer!_


	8. Ending

There's so much we have to work though, Harry and I. We've been through so much, and I feel closer to him now than anyone else in the world. I know how he feels, for I'd believe I was the murderer of Draco. Harry knows how I feel, for he doesn't have parents either. It's like our lives mirror each other's. I know he needs my support, and he knows I need his.

We go to counselling. Harry to "deal with his problems" and me, to overcome mine. The story of Harry's uncle's death is still a bit of a mystery. All I can tell from Harry is that Vernon Dursley had been hitting him. Harry had snapped, and taken out his wand…He says it all seems like a dream now, but I think he's just trying to block it out.

"I wish I could tell you it was self defence," he told me last night, with wide sorrowful eyes as we'd walked along the lake. "I wish it were that simple. It's not. He'd hit me plenty of times before, it was no reason to kill him." _Pain_. "He didn't deserve to die. It was like all the anger over Sirius was personified into one man, and I felt like I had to kill him."

"But why were you okay then? So quickly? When I left, you were still not right. How did you recover?"

"I slept," he'd replied to me simply. "I hadn't slept for so long. I slept and I talked and I saw the people who I knew loved me. And then I heard you were gone, and you'd attacked Draco and I was worried about you. And then Draco reported that you were kidnapped…I guess some things are more important, really. I didn't want anything to happen to you."

"You'll always be a hero, won't you?" I'd smiled.

Harry hadn't smiled back. "A murderer isn't a hero, Hermione," he'd responded seriously and I'd only glimpsed a fraction of the guilt and self-hatred in those brilliant green eyes. It was gone when I'd blinked, but I knew Harry was only acting strong. Like he always does.

I act too. But the acting helps. After a while, when you fake smiling and fake laughter, it becomes less of a act. Eventually you're so used to doing it, it starts to become sincere again. Everything's not okay, but life's become real again. There's more in the world than just my parents' faces. I can feel other things. I guess it's because Voldemort is gone and the trio are reunited again. Friends help more than anything else at a time of need.

Ron's been brilliant. He understands. He never shouts anymore. He doesn't suffocate. He might have done, once upon a time. But he's different now he knows what to do. He's been giving me space, but lingering in the background just in case I need him.

Draco hasn't reverted back to his old ways. Although he's not singing praises at the top of his voice down the hallway for Neville, he hasn't insulted any of the Gryffindors. When he sees me in the hallway, he gives me a special smile. It's strange, how I nearly killed him and how we always hated each other, but I feel a sort of bond with him. We've both done things we regret, and we will probably always be searching for our amendment.

I told Draco of this, about how we'd always be looking for our forgiveness and probably never find it. His response has made me think about a lot of things.

"I guess all that matters is that we keep looking for it."

Maybe that's true. Maybe, as long as you're sorry for the things that you've done, it'll all be okay. I'm not too sure about a God or anything, but maybe we'll all be granted access to heaven. As long as we try our best.

I stand in front of my parents' grave now. It's so quiet. There's a beauty to this place. The church bells ring in this distance, and the sun is spilling down on me. There's a dozen different bouquets of flowers, a mesh of colours and nature. And, even with them gone, I am not alone. My friends all stand behind me. Ginny Weasley. Ron Weasley. Neville Longbottom. Lavender Brown. Luna Lovegood. Harry Potter. People who care for me. People who will help me when I need them to. My friends.

This summer won't be bad. It'll weird, not going home. I'm going to Ron's. It'll be okay though – it's too noisy and crowded there, I won't be able to think about anything gloomy. Mr and Mrs Weasley will be there, and Mrs. Weasley has already told me that anytime I need to talk, she's willing to listen. And Harry will be at the Burrow, whenever he's ready to come.

Life always moves on. No matter what happens, life always carries on around you, and you have no choice but to keep up. Slowly and surely. Everything happens for a reason, after all, and although I can't really explain any of this year's reasons, I know I'm only sixteen years old and I have my whole life ahead of me to find out.

And I know that mum and dad aren't really that gone at all. They're alive, in me, in my memories, and I know that I'll never forget them.

* * *

_Thanks to Alenor and Seghen for last chapter reviews! This is just to tie everything up. Story now finished! Yay!_ _I love finishing stories! _

_Thanks for anyone who supported me through this story...it was difficult!_

_Taintless  
__xxx_


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